Love Doesn't Come in a Minute
by singsomethinggood
Summary: Glee Season 2 from Blaine's POV. Follows canon.
1. In Which I Make a Friend, Nothing More

**Chapter Summary**

Glee's "Never Been Kissed."

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><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>

I do not own Glee. This fic contains characters that were created by Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan and dialog that was written by Brad Falchuk.

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><p><strong>In Which I Make a Friend, Nothing More<strong>

I absentmindedly drummed my fingers on my desk, keeping one eye on the clock and one ear on Professor Freidman's lecture on the War of 1812.

Thursday mornings were usually long and painful, and today was no exception. Professor Friedman was doing his best to make a war that happened almost 200 years ago seem interesting and relevant, but he was fighting a losing battle. And to make matters worse, I was even more distracted than usual today due to the fact that Wes had sent a mass text to all the Warblers this morning:

**Teenage Dream in the senior commons after 1st period. Blaine leads. Bring your energy! -W**

I hadn't bothered to send Wes a response, knowing full well that this wasn't a request. As excited as I was to perform, the timing wasn't ideal. My second class of the day was economics with Professor Carmichael, who was something of a punctuality Nazi.

I was running through the lyrics in my head for the millionth time (I had a thing about forgetting lyrics) when the bell rang, jolting me from my reverie and cueing a swarm pre-performance butterflies. I quickly packed up my things and ran out the door, wanting to get there as quickly as possible.

The hallways were noisy with excited chatter; it looked like Wes had done an excellent job of advertising the impromptu performance. I started running through the lyrics in my head yet again and quickly checked the time.

And then a high, soft voice interrupted my abstraction.

"Excuse me?"

I turned to find a tall, attractive boy looking at me with the most spectacular blue eyes I had ever seen. He wasn't dressed in the Dalton Academy uniform, although he was wearing what looked like an amusing parody of one: a dark navy jacket with a red tie and grey plaid shorts with black boots. I recognized the shorts from the pages of last month's Vogue. My gaydar twitched.

He spoke again. "Um, hi. Can I ask you a question? I'm-I'm new here."

_A mid-semester transfer? That's unusual. I wonder why he doesn't have a uniform yet._

I offered him my hand. "My name's Blaine."

"Kurt," he replied, briefly shaking my hand and then indicating the mayhem on the staircase around us. "So what exactly is going on?"

"The Warblers," I informed him, noticing all the Warblers rushing past us in the hallway. I was going to be late if I didn't hurry. "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. It tends to shut the school down for awhile."

"So, wait, the glee club here's kind of cool?" He looked surprised.

"The Warblers are like rock stars," I assured him, and then made a quick decision. "Come on, I know a shortcut." Hoping I wasn't being too forward, I reached over and took his hand in mine. The energy between our hands was intense, but I kept a firm grip and led him down the staircase and through a rarely-used back hallway.

I moved quickly, not wanting to be too late for our next class, and he easily kept pace with me. We didn't speak, but it wasn't awkward. Every now and then I'd steal a glance his way, but I don't think he noticed.

I didn't let go of his hand until we were at the senior commons.

"Ooh, I stick out like a sore thumb." He looked around the room self-consciously. He was the only one not in a Dalton uniform.

The Warblers had noticed my arrival, and I heard them start in on their harmonies behind me. I decided to strut my stuff a little bit.

I leaned towards Kurt to flash him a smile and adjust his lapel (which didn't really need adjusting). "Well, next time, don't forget your jacket, new kid. You'll fit right in." I grinned as his eyes danced. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

I turned around and started singing, right on cue.

At first it seemed like Kurt was uncomfortable. His eyes kept darting around the room as if on the lookout for some unknown danger. But after awhile he relaxed and started getting into it. I tried to relax him by shooting him a few flirty glances and singling him out as my teenage dream. His flushed cheeks and shy smile were an encouraging surprise.

When the song ended, the room burst out in applause and I was swarmed by the other Warblers, still high on the adrenaline of the performance. I was going to start making my way back over to Kurt when I was ambushed on either side by Wes and David and drug off to the opposite side of the room.

"Blaine!" Wes's tone was teasing. "Who is this you brought to watch us sing? Is this a new boyfriend?"

I felt my cheeks color. "No, Wes, I only just met him. He stopped me in the hall on my way here and asked for directions. He's new."

David's eyes narrowed. "Blaine, he doesn't even have a uniform. Did it not occur to you that he could be a spy, sent from another school? Sectionals are only a few weeks away."

I shook my head. "Honestly, David, I didn't even think about that. My first impression was that maybe... he's curious about the school? Maybe he came here for the same reason I did? I mean, he's obviously gay. Look at him." I nodded my head slightly towards Kurt. "Look at the stitching on that jacket. It looks amazing on him. And I'm pretty sure that's a Jack Georges bag."

Kurt was still standing a little awkwardly at the door of the commons, looking like he didn't know what to do next. I caught his eye and motioned that I'd be there in just a minute. He smiled and nodded.

I turned back to David and Wes and found them exchanging a look.

"What?" I demanded.

"You like him." Wes beamed.

"You said he looked amazing." David narrowed his eyes, clearly less approving than Wes. "That's fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Whatever. Look. If you guys think he's a spy, then I'll go find out. I'll see you guys at lunch." I quickly left my friends and made my way through the thinning crowd in the commons, returning Kurt's infectious smile as I approached.

"That was wonderful," he gushed. "You were so good!"

"Thanks! The guys are pretty awesome. They do most of the work."

"Yeah, I can see that. A cappella arrangements are a lot more work than what we're used to." He caught his slip immediately. "I-I mean, what I _was_ used to... from my old school," he finished unconvincingly.

"So it is true?" I asked. "Some of the other Warblers think you're here to spy on us to see what we have prepared for sectionals."

His face turned a bright pink and he fumbled for his words. "I-I... I mean..."

I was surprisingly disappointed that he wasn't going to be a student here.

"I-I'm sorry," he finally said. "I go to William McKinley High. It's a public school in Lima. It's about two hours northwest of here."

He looked terrified. Did he think I was going to beat him up or something?

I smiled at him and reached over to gently squeeze his arm. His blush was adorable. "Relax. It's not a big deal. That wasn't even a sectionals piece. I just really like Katy Perry and the rest of the guys put up with it. We were just fooling around. We do this all the time."

He seemed to relax a bit at this, and I quickly checked my watch. Professor Carmichael was going to kill me if I didn't get to class, like, now. I made another quick decision.

"Listen, I have to get to class, but I'd really like to see you again. Can I buy you a coffee sometime?"

Kurt looked stunned. He opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again.

Am I really that intimidating? He can't even respond?

"You can come back here and I'll introduce you to some of the guys," I prompted. Maybe he was uncomfortable with the idea of being alone with me? Was I too pushy with the flirting during the song?

"Um, sure," he finally said. "I mean, yeah, okay."

I quickly opened one of my notebooks and wrote down my phone number on the corner of an unused sheet.

"It was nice meeting you, Kurt," I said, flashing him a reassuring grin as I ripped out the scrap of paper and handed it to him.

"You too, Blaine."

I let my gaze linger a moment longer before I turned and hurried down the hallway, already late for class.

I couldn't wait to hear from him.

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><p>"I knew it!" David exclaimed. "I told you he was a spy."<p>

I rolled my eyes across the lunch table in his general direction. "I don't see what difference it makes, David. Like I said, he didn't see anything that important. We were just fooling around. No harm done."

"I agree, although I think it's unusual that his glee club sent only him." Wes mused. "You know, strength in numbers and all that. And he certainly isn't, um... well, he doesn't really seem up to a fight. Weren't they worried that we might retaliate?"

"Yeah, I don't know," I said, distractedly pushing the food around on my plate. "Maybe he knows about the harassment policy? I mean, he obviously did some research on our dress code, so it doesn't seem that far-fetched that he would know a few other things about us, too. He could have read about it on the website or something and then volunteered to come alone. That's how I found Dalton." I said this last sentence quietly, looking away from Wes and David. They knew I didn't like to talk about my old high school.

"Yeah, it's possible." Wes agreed quickly, not pushing the subject.

"Well, hopefully we'll find out soon. I gave him my phone number."

Wes and David both grinned. "We knew it!" they said in unison.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from an unknown number. I opened it.

**Hey, this is Kurt. Just wanted to give you my number. It was really nice meeting you today.**

I smiled and immediately sent a text back.

**Likewise. Is tomorrow too soon for coffee?**

I barely had time to save his number in my phone before it buzzed again.

**No, that sounds great. When?**

**4?**

**See you then!**

When I looked up from my phone, I found Wes and David both watching me with a pair of amused expressions.

"What?"

"You tell us," David smirked. "You look like you just won the lottery."

"Um, no, that was Kurt. We're all meeting for coffee tomorrow after school. I'd told him I'd introduce him to some of the guys. And you have to promise to be nice!"

Wes and David exchanged a glance. "We'll be nice if you buy the coffee."

"Deal."

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><p>The next day, my butterflies were back, and this time it had nothing to do with a Warblers performance. I did my best to concentrate on my classes but ended up being a useless bundle of nerves for most of the day.<p>

When the last bell finally rang, I rushed to the cafeteria. I had decided to ask Kurt to meet me in the cafeteria since it was a pretty public place, which I hoped would make him more comfortable. After looking around to make sure I was the first one there, I went to stand in the line at the counter.

I was about halfway up the line when I saw Kurt come in. I waved to get his attention from across the room, and then motioned that he should find us a table. He nodded and sat down at an empty one near the door.

I was admiring Kurt's outfit (he was wearing just the front panel of a jacket over another jacket; how adorable was he?) when Wes and David came in. I caught their attention and they made their way over to me, waving and smiling at Kurt on their way.

"Hey, guys," I said as they approached.

"He looks nervous," David nodded his head towards Kurt.

"It's adorable that he's scared of you, Blaine." Wes cracked.

I rolled my eyes and ignored their teasing until we finally got to the counter. I ordered the coffee, paid, and stood off to the side with the guys to wait for our order.

"Now, Blaine," Wes said seriously, "As a member of the Warblers council, I feel it's my duty to remind you that you should refrain from discussing anything to do with the Warblers while in Kurt's presence."

"Yes, master," I said mockingly. "Thou shall not doubt my allegiance to the esteemed organization that is the Dalton Academy Warblers."

"Good," Wes nodded, satisfied.

When our order was ready, we took the coffees and made our way back to Kurt. He looked nervous as he watched the three of us approach find places to sit at the table.

"Latte?" I handed Kurt one of the cups and then indicated to each of my friends. "This is Wes and David."

Kurt's eyes took in the two newcomers. Despite his obvious unease, he stood tall in his seat. "It's very civilized for you to invite me for coffee before you beat me up for spying," he deadpanned.

Wes laughed. "We are not going to beat you up," he assured Kurt.

"We thought you were such a terrible spy, it was sort of endearing." David pitched in.

"Which made me think spying on us wasn't really the reason you came." I said. This seemed to strike a nerve with Kurt as he took a short moment before responding.

"Can I ask you guys a question?" he asked. When we all nodded, he continued. "Are you guys all gay?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at the stereotype Kurt had jumped to. An all-male school was every gay man's dream, right? "Uh, no," I said, quick to dispel his theory. "I mean, I am, but these two have girlfriends."

"This is not a gay school," David explained. "We just have a zero tolerance harassment policy."

"Everybody gets treated the same no matter what they are," Wes added. "It's pretty simple."

I watched Kurt carefully as he processed that information. It was obvious that he hadn't known about Dalton's bullying policy before now. His composure was weakening.

"Would you guys excuse us?" I asked of my friends. They understood immediately and quickly jumped out of their seats.

"Take it easy, Kurt." Wes shot Kurt a reassuring smile and he and David left.

I waited until they were safely out of earshot before I spoke again.

"I take it you're having trouble at school," I prodded gently.

"I'm the only person out of the closet at my school." Kurt's voice was tired but strong. "And I-I try to stay strong about it but there's this Neanderthal who's made it his mission to make my life a living hell. And nobody seems to notice."

My heart broke for him. I knew exactly what he was going through.

"I know how you feel," I said. "I got taunted at my old school and it really pissed me off. I even complained about it to the faculty, and they were sympathetic and all, but you could just tell that nobody really cared. It was like, hey, if you're gay, your life's just going to be miserable. Sorry. Nothing we can do about it."

Kurt diverted his eyes in pain when I said this. I wondered if he had ever been told something similar.

"So I left." I continued. "I came here. Simple as that. So you have two options. I mean, I'd love to tell you to just come enroll here, but tuition at Dalton's sort of steep and I know that's not an option for everybody. Or, you can refuse to be the victim. Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt. You have a chance right now to teach him."

"How?" he asked.

"Confront him! Call him out! I ran, Kurt. I didn't stand up. I let those bullies chase me away and it's something that I really, really regret."

"Well, you can hardly blame yourself for that," Kurt said softly. "Of course you'd rather be here. This place sounds wonderful. I can't even imagine it."

My heart sank even further, and I felt a strong compulsion to protect this boy sitting in front of me.

"Listen Kurt, if you ever need anything I don't want you to hesitate to call me. Day or night. I know exactly what you're going through right now, and it helps to have someone to talk to about it."

Kurt blushed. "Ok. That would be nice. Thank you, Blaine."

"Are you kidding? It's my pleasure. And anyway, I need a little excitement in my life." I wiggled my eyebrows at him to lighten the mood, and it worked. His laugh was beautiful.

"I do have more excitement than I know what to do with," he agreed tiredly. "I'm more than happy to share. But for now, I should get back to Lima. It's a school night, and I have homework."

"Ok," I said. "Let me walk you out."

We stood and collected our things, throwing our empty cups in the trash on the way out the door. When we left the cafeteria, I looped my arm through Kurt's and let him lead me to where he was parked. We walked in silence, and like yesterday, it was completely comfortable.

When he led me to a black Escalade in the parking lot, I grinned.

"Nice car!"

"Thanks." He climbed in and rolled down his window before closing his door so we could talk. "It's my baby."

"I bet you don't get very good gas mileage, though." I leaned against his car door, wondering if Kurt felt the same butterflies that I did by this close proximity. His eyes were even bluer up close. "I think next time it's my turn to come visit you."

Kurt just gripped the steering wheel and stared at me with wide blue eyes. Damn it, Blaine! Think before you talk! He came here to talk to you, not get hit on!

"Or whatever," I said quickly. "Just let me know. Bye, Kurt."

I turned and walked away before I could say anything else stupid.

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><p>I spent the weekend trying to do homework but instead thinking about Kurt. I finally arrived at two important conclusions.<p>

First, it was clear that Kurt had no interest in anything other than a completely platonic relationship with me. His discomfort with my disastrous attempt at flirting was obvious and I wasn't so stupid as to continue to push things.

Second, I would rather be Kurt's friend than nothing at all. He was an amazing person, and I was willing to settle for whatever kind of relationship he was comfortable with. And anyways, I knew exactly what he was going through at McKinley and I could help him through it. As a friend.

By Monday morning, it was decided: I was going to be the best friend Kurt Hummel had ever had. I took out my phone and sent him a quick text before the first bell rang.

**Courage - - - Blaine**

The day passed fairly quickly. The Dalton curriculum was challenging, and I pretty well distracted myself from thoughts of Kurt by concentrating on my schoolwork. I hadn't gotten nearly as much done this last weekend as I had intended, and I had to make up for it.

After the last bell rang, I met up with Wes, David, Thad, Jeff and Nick (as per usual) in one of the rarely-used common rooms to study. Jeff, Nick and I all had a calculus test the next morning, so we quickly made ourselves comfortable at a table and threw ourselves into the text and notes.

I was so engrossed in integrals that I jumped a little when Wes cleared his throat in the otherwise silent room.

"So, uh... what did you and Kurt talk about after we left yesterday?"

I looked up and was greeted by two eager faces in Wes and David and three confused faces in Thad, Jeff and Nick. I hesitated. Kurt barely knew Wes and David and hadn't even met the others. Kurt would probably be mortified if I shared such personal information about him.

"The spy who was at Teenage Dream last week," I explained for Thad, Jeff and Nick. "I invited him back the day after and we talked for awhile. But I really can't say anything else," I said, turning to Wes and David. "I'm sorry. It's just... it's not my place, you know?"

Wes and David both reluctantly nodded and we all went back to studying. After awhile, Wes broke the silence again.

"Did you ask him out?"

I sighed, this time not bothering to look up from my textbook. "No. He made it pretty clear he's not interested."

I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Jeff was exchanging glances with Wes and David. Nobody said anything else, though, so I dropped it and returned to my homework.

It was awhile later when my phone vibrated in my pocket, causing me to jump again. I quickly glanced at the screen, annoyed at the interruption until I saw it was a text from Kurt.

**Hey, are you busy?**

**Not really, I'm just studying. What's up?**

**I took your advice. I confronted him.**

**Kurt, that's great! How did it go?**

I waited anxiously for his reply, chewing on my thumbnail.

**I'd prefer to tell you in person. If that's ok?**

My heart sank. So it didn't go well?

**Of course. Where and when?**

He sent me the address of a coffee shop in Bellefontaine, which was about halfway between Lima and Dalton. I took that to mean the sooner, the better.

**I'm on my way.**

Jeff shot me a quizzical look when I started packing up my books. "I'm meeting Kurt," I explained. "I've got to go. I'll see you guys later, ok?" I didn't wait for a response before rushing out of the room.

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><p>Kurt was already sitting at a table when I arrived. He looked visibly shaken but he smiled when he caught my eye as I came in the door.<p>

I scrutinized his appearance as I quickly made my way over to him. I was relieved to see that he didn't have any obvious bruises on his face or hands, but he looked like he had been through the wringer. I smiled when I saw that he already had two coffees, one in his hand and the other sitting at the empty spot across the table from him.

"Hey," I said, sliding into my chair. "Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome," he said quietly. He sounded so tired. "It was my turn."

I smiled and appreciatively took a sip. Now that I was sitting directly across from him, I noticed that his eyes, which were more gray than blue today, were red and puffy. He had been crying. "Are you ok, Kurt?"

He took a deep breath and studied me for awhile, and I instantly recognized his hesitance. Kurt wasn't used to talking about this kind of stuff, mostly because he hadn't had anyone to talk to before he met me, and he was having a hard time being vulnerable. I reached across the table and took his hand in mine.

"You can trust me, Kurt," I said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I know exactly what you're going through. You can let me in."

He considered this for few seconds, took another deep breath and started talking. He didn't let go of my hand, which was fine with me.

"Ok. So, like I said, I took your advice. I, uh... I sort of confronted one of my bullies. The worst one, actually – the Neanderthal that I was telling you about. His name is Dave Karofsky. He pushed me into the lockers this morning –"

I winced at this, but Kurt quickly brushed it off.

"That's normal. It's actually kind of a daily occurrence. But I'm just so sick of it, you know? And I had been thinking about our conversation all morning, and I just... went for it. I chased him into the locker room, a-and –"

His voice broke and I gently squeezed his hand, silently letting him know that I was right here. I waited patiently for him to continue.

"He... I said some things, and then he told me not to push him, and I-I..." Kurt was starting to lose his composure again, and I fought the urge to leave my chair to move closer to him. I hated to see him in pain like this.

I gripped his hand even tighter when I saw a tear roll down his face. A strong wave of emotion rolled over me that I couldn't quite name.

"... and then he... kissed me."

My eyebrows shot up. This Neanderthal liked Kurt?

"It was out of the middle of nowhere. I didn't know what to do. And then... and then he went to kiss me again, but I couldn't... I mean..." Kurt shuddered at the memory and wrapped his arms around himself. "So I pushed him away. And then he got pissed again, punched a locker, and stormed out." He finished in a rush, as if he just wanted to be done with it.

I had listened to Kurt's story in silence, carefully watching his face the entire time. I couldn't believe how brave this boy was. He found the courage to confront his bully, and I had never even come close.

"Kurt," I started, "I'm so sorry that happened. I feel terrible about it. This is obviously all my fault, after our conversation yesterday, and –"

"No, Blaine," he cut me off in a voice that surprisingly forceful, considering the tears that were still wet on his face. "Don't you dare put this on yourself. What I did today was my decision, and what Karofsky did today was his decision. None of this is your fault. Okay?"

He shot me a rather terrifying diva look and I immediately nodded, unwilling to argue with this new dominant side of Kurt.

"So," he continued easily, "I've been thinking about it all day, and I'm going to confront him again tomorrow."

What? "What?"

"It's like you said, Blaine, prejudice is just ignorance. He's obviously confused and scared and dealing with a lot of stuff right now, and I understand that better than anybody else at McKinley. I can help him with this."

It was then that I realized that Kurt had made the connection that Karofsky was gay, but not that he had feelings for Kurt.

It was also then that I realized how big of a heart Kurt had. How could he possibly feel compassion towards this person who is making his life a nightmare?

"Kurt, you could get seriously hurt. Look at what he did to you today! He assaulted you! He's obviously dangerous, and probably unstable. At least let me be there when you talk to him."

Kurt sighed. "Blaine, it's really nice of you to offer, but please don't feel obligated to do this, ok? I didn't ask to see you today to recruit a bodyguard. I just... I don't want you getting hurt." His anxiously twisted his fingers together and I pushed away the impulse to take his hands in mine to soothe the anxious movement.

"And you think I'm not worried about the same thing with you? I'm coming with, Kurt." I said matter-of-factly. "Now, I have a calc test tomorrow morning that I can't miss, but I can make it to Lima around lunchtime, so any time after that will work for me. When do you want to do this?"

"Um," Kurt gulped, "might as well get it over with, I suppose. Lunchtime would be ok."

"Lunchtime it is. I'll text you when I get close so you can let me know where to go."

"Ok." Kurt checked the time on his cell phone and sighed. "I should get going. I have homework."

"Yeah," I nodded. "Me, too."

We stood up and threw our empty coffee cups in the trash on the way out.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" I asked when we reached the parking lot.

Kurt nodded. "Tomorrow."

I gave him a quick hug and watched him walk the short distance to his Escalade before getting into my own car.

I thought of him the whole drive home.

* * *

><p>I got back to the dorms well after dinner, but I didn't care. I dug around in the back of my closet until I found some cookies that Mom had sent a few days ago. These would do for now.<p>

I brought the cookies over to my desk and fired up my laptop, reluctantly starting a research project for history. Who cares about a war that happened almost two hundred years ago?

I worked in silence for awhile before Jeff threw open the door to our shared room with a huge sigh. I spun around in my chair, thankful for the distraction.

"Hey," I said. "Long night?"

"You could say that. I loathe integrals. How did it go with Kurt?"

"Not bad. I'm driving up to Lima right after the test tomorrow to help him with something."

Jeff frowned. "What about class?"

"I don't think it'll be a problem. I'll miss French, but I have a study period right after lunch and gym after that, and Mr. Linder has always liked me. I'll definitely be back in time for Warblers practice."

"So, this is, what, the third or fourth time you've seen this guy in less than a week? You must really like him." Jeff's tone was light and teasing, but he was watching me intently, waiting for my answer.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't know. I guess so. But like I said, it really doesn't matter because I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way."

"I don't know, Blaine. He seemed into you from what I saw."

"That was just because the Warblers are amazing," I reasoned. "Especially when we do Katy Perry. Who doesn't love Katy Perry?"

"Wes and David said that he couldn't keep his eyes off you."

"I seriously doubt that, Jeff. And really, I'm fine with just being friends with Kurt. He's a good person. I just like spending time with him."

"I don't think you'll be able to do it."

"Do what?" I frowned.

"To just be friends with him. I know you, Blaine. You're too compulsive and you have a terrible filter. It'll never work. You'll end up professing your love for him within a week."

I sighed and flopped down on my bed, abandoning my homework.

I hoped Jeff was wrong.

* * *

><p>I dominated my calc test the next morning (thanks to the extra studying the day before) and ended up leaving Dalton a little earlier than planned. I sent Kurt a quick text before I pulled out of the parking lot and he confirmed that I would get there well before lunch.<p>

When I got to McKinley, I found a parking spot and sent him a text to let him know I was there. The lot was empty of people, so I assumed that he was still in class and settled back to wait. I had just opened up my Twitter app and started scrolling through the feed when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

I was pleasantly surprised when I looked up and saw Kurt walking towards my car. Well, more like swaying towards my car. His movements were so graceful, like a dancer. And his smile was dazzling. He wore a blue jacket that hugged his hips and made his eyes seem even bluer.

I quickly stashed my phone in my jacket pocket, jumped out and locked the doors behind me just as he reached me.

"Hi," he smiled.

"Hey there. Shouldn't you be in class, young man?" I lifted an eyebrow, trying to look authoritative.

"I was too nervous to go to class," he admitted. "I wouldn't have been able to pay attention anyway. And it's just French class. I already speak it better than the teacher."

I raised my eyebrows but he didn't say anything further. He started walking and I let him lead me away from my car towards the back of the school. We walked slowly, since we had some time to kill. He kept a safe distance between us, which was either meant to protect him in our hostile surroundings or a sign of his discomfort with me. I hoped it was the former. I was concerned about his near-constant state of anxiety, and I wondered how he managed to deal with it all.

"There's no need to be nervous," I assured him. "All we're going to do is talk. Do you know where he's going to be?"

"He'll come out of that door over there and he'll be headed in that direction." Kurt pointed as he spoke. "So I figure we'll just meet him on those stairs over there."

I eyed Kurt. "You know his schedule?"

"I know a lot of people's schedules. It's a vital part of staying out of harm's way in this place." His tone was bitter. Suddenly, he spun and faced me. "Blaine, you know you don't have to do this."

"Shush. We're not having this argument again. Let's go." I gently pushed him forward and he reluctantly continued walking, anxiously chewing on a fingernail.

"I'm awful at French." I said conversationally, trying to distract him. "I always have been. Italian comes a lot easier to me."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "Really? I've always wanted to learn Italian. It's so romantic."

"You think so? I think French is so much more romantic than Italian. It's the language of love!"

Kurt blushed furiously, and I struggled with being both disappointed and pleased for causing that. I decided to change the subject to a safer one, one that he was obviously interested in: fashion.

"You look good today," I blurted out without thinking, and then froze, realizing what I had said and how it sounded in context with my previous statement. Kurt's cheeks were still bright pink. I cringed. Maybe Jeff was right. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Thank you," he said in a small voice. We arrived at the bottom of a staircase and Kurt stopped to lean against a railing. "We can wait here until the bell rings."

I nodded, and then decided to give proper conversation another stab. "Is that a Jack Georges?" I asked, indicating his bag.

That was definitely the right thing to say. "It is," he grinned and swung it around so I could see. "I just love his Elements collection. It's beautiful."

"Oh, I don't know," I countered. "I mean, it's nice, but I'm partial to the new Marc by Marc Jacobs. It's much more casual. It's more my style."

Kurt beamed at me for a second, a real, genuine smile that came with twinkling blue eyes. One glorious second. And then the bell rang.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. The smile immediately disappeared, replaced by a look of anxiety and fear.

I tensed for a moment as well, but I swallowed my fear for Kurt. He needed someone to be strong for him. I instinctively drew him in for a quick hug and then stood back and locked my eyes on his. "You can do this, Kurt. I'm going to be here the entire time. We'll do this together."

Kurt took a few deep breaths, nodded, and we started up the stairs together.

"Don't worry about it," I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. "Just let me do the talking."

We reached the top of the first staircase and I saw Kurt stiffen. "There he is."

I followed his gaze and got my first eyeful of Karofsky. "I got your back," I said, hopefully sounding more confident than I felt. Karofsky was pretty big, and I'm sure he could kick my ass in a fight. This was going to be tricky.

"Excuse me," I said politely, making sure to stop Karofsky while he was still a few steps away.

"Hey, lady boys," Karofsky sneered. "Is this your boyfriend, Kurt?"

I ignored his comment, filing away the fact that Karofsky was so quick to inquire about Kurt's dating life. "Kurt and I would like to talk to you about something."

"I gotta go to class." He shoved past Kurt and started walking away. My blood boiled.

"Kurt told me what you did."

That got his attention. He turned back to face us. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You kissed me." Kurt said forcefully.

Karofsky scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It seems like you might be a little confused," I said gently, "and that's totally normal." Karofsky started walking away again, but I wasn't finished. "This is a very hard thing to come to terms with, and you should just know that you're not alone."

Suddenly, Karofsky paused, spun around, and came at me. Before I knew what was happening, he had me pinned against the wall.

"Do not mess with me!" Karofsky snarled, his face inches from mine. His voice was dripping with hate.

I threw my hands up in a gesture of surrender, showing that I had no intention of fighting him. I waited for the punches to come, but before anything could happen, Kurt stepped forward and shoved Karofsky off me.

"You have to stop this!" Kurt shouted angrily, and I felt a surge of pride watching this brave boy stand up to his tormentor.

Karofsky stumbled back, looking dazed. He hesitated for a minute as if he wanted to say something else, but finally turned and left without another word.

"Well, he's not coming out anytime soon," I quipped, trying to relieve the tension of the situation. I was mostly just relieved that it was over and Kurt was ok.

Kurt moved over to the stairs and collapsed onto them. He looked like he was biting back tears.

"What's going on?" I asked, moving to sit beside him. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because until yesterday, I had never been kissed," he said brokenly, carefully avoiding eye contact. He looked absolutely defeated. "Or, at least, one that counted."

Seeing Kurt this way absolutely killed me. I fought back the urge to wrap my arms around him. That's the last thing he needs, I reminded myself. Right now he needs a friend, and I can be that for him.

"Come on. I'll buy you lunch."

Kurt stood up and wordlessly followed me back to the parking lot, not hesitating to climb into the passenger seat of my car when I opened the door for him. I felt his eyes on me as I walked around to the other side and got in.

"Thank you," he said as soon as I closed my door.

I turned to look into his eyes. They were a little red around the edges, but so, so blue. "For what?"

"For this. For everything. I owe you so much."

"Kurt," I laughed. "We're friends, aren't we? This is what friends do."

He studied me carefully for a moment. I kept eye contact, wondering what he was thinking. Had I said something wrong again? I noticed a flicker of emotion run across his face (was that a frown?) before he caught himself and smoothed his expression.

"Of course we're friends," he said. "But I still feel like I owe you. How about I get lunch?"

"Nope. Lunch is on me today, I'm afraid. Where do you want to go?"

"There's a little coffee shop just a few blocks down that way," he pointed. "They have pretty good food, and it's fast, which is good because I need to be back in" – he checked his watch quickly – "half an hour."

"Then we'd better get going." I started the engine and maneuvered out of the parking lot in the direction that Kurt had indicated.

As I drove, Kurt started humming a familiar tune.

"En Vogue?" I inquired.

He sighed. "Yeah, it's this week's assignment for glee and I can't get it out of my head. We're performing it tomorrow." He tensed as soon as the words left his lips.

"Let's not talk about our glee clubs," I suggested as we pulled into the coffee shop, adorably named The Lima Bean. "Tell me about this Jack Georges collection that's supposedly so beautiful."

Kurt immediately relaxed at the subject change and we fell into easy conversation as we ordered our food and quickly ate. It was comfortable. Like, we've been friends for years comfortable. I was disappointed when Kurt glanced at the time and said he had to be back in five minutes.

The drive back was silent, and I noticed Kurt growing tenser the closer we got to the school. When I pulled up to the door and put the car in park, I reached over and took his hand before he could get out.

"Let me know if you need anything, ok?"

"Thanks again, Blaine," he said softly, holding my gaze. "I really do appreciate it."

The bell rang and Kurt climbed out of my car and jogged back towards the school. I watched until he was inside, and then started the drive back to Dalton.


	2. In Which Friendship is Difficult

**Chapter Summary**

Glee's "The Substitute."

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer<strong>

I do not own Glee. This fic contains characters that were created by Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk and Ian Brennan and dialog that was written by Ian Brennan.

* * *

><p><strong>In Which Friendship is Difficult<strong>

The next morning, I dug out my phone and composed a text.

**Courage.**

I sat with my finger hovering over the "send" button, wondering if my inspirational texts were getting too cheesy. After a moment of consideration, I tapped "send." Cheesy is who I am, and I felt like I could be myself around Kurt.

I smiled when my phone vibrated with Kurt's response not long after.

**:) What are you doing tonight?**

**French homework. I have a test on Friday.**

**Need some help? Vous pourriez être surpris par ma connaissance de la langue.**

Um, what? I opened up my web browser and sent his text through a translator. "You might be surprised by my knowledge of the language."

So I was finally going to meet the French-speaking Kurt that was teased last week. Making the best of the translator that was still open on my phone, I sent my reply in French.

**C'est une date!**

* * *

><p>Wednesday afternoon found me standing at the Hummel doorstep. I had reasoned with Kurt that if he was kind enough to help with my homework, the least I could do was to drive to Lima. It wasn't easy to get him to cave (he wanted to meet halfway), but he finally relented once I argued that even with drive time factored in, he was probably saving me a ton of time in the long run, if he was as good at French as he had indicated.<p>

I rang the doorbell and stood back, running through a mental list of polite things to say to Kurt's parents, if either happened to open the door. I was just starting to get nervous when Kurt answered the door.

"Hey," I grinned.

"Hi!" he grinned back. "Come on in. I'm already set up in the dining room."

I kicked my shoes off and hung my coat in the closet before following Kurt to the dining room. I sat and dug out my French homework, spreading it out on the empty half of the dining room table. I noticed that Kurt had multiple French texts on his side of the table, including several advanced-looking ones.

"Are your parents home?"

"Uh, my dad's working late tonight, so it's just you and me."

I was just about to ask about his mom when he cut me off. "So what's on this dreaded French test of yours?"

"Um, I'm not exactly sure, but I have a general idea."

"How can you not be exactly sure?"

"Well... I may have skipped a class last week."

"Blaine Anderson!" he said teasingly. "I'm ashamed of you! I'm sure that's frowned upon at your esteemed establishment."

"It was for a good cause," I assured him. He didn't need to know that the good cause was driving to McKinley to help him confront Dave Karofsky.

I flipped my book open to what I thought might be the right chapters and we started running through the material. I did my best to concentrate on the work, but watching a language as beautiful as French spill out of Kurt's perfect, pink lips was out-of-this-world hot.

_Stop it, Blaine. Focus, or he's going to think you're a moron who can't grasp simple French. He already thinks you're a terrible student._

Kurt had been quizzing me on verb conjugations for an hour and a half when he leaned back in his chair to stretch and yawn. He quickly agreed when I suggested a break and we abandoned the homework and went to the kitchen where Kurt started poking around in the fridge.

"Do you like stir-fry?" his voice floated out from inside the fridge.

"Love it."

"Excellent." He pulled an armful of food from the fridge and arranged it neatly on the island in the middle of his decent-sized kitchen. He pulled a large frying pan from a rack hanging above the island, drizzled some oil in it, and placed it on the stove, which he flipped on. He turned his attention back to the food on the counter and started swiftly chopping and slicing with a chef's knife.

I took a seat on a barstool on the other side of the island, staying out of his way. It was obvious he was comfortable in the kitchen.

"So, let me get this straight. Not only are you a French whiz, you can cook? Do you have any other superpowers I should be aware of?"

He laughed and waved his hand, dismissing my compliment. "I've always loved French. It's just so beautiful, you know? It's like..." he paused, waving his knife in the air, searching for the right words. "It's like soft, flowy, beautiful music, even though you're not singing. It sucked me in from the beginning." He sighed and resumed his work with the knife. "I suppose I have my pathetic social life to thank in the end. I've had plenty of time to devote to it."

"I know what you mean," I said softly.

Kurt studied my face briefly before turning his attention back to the food on the counter. "I can't imagine you ever being unpopular," he said quietly.

I hesitated, not knowing how to respond. I was hypocritically unwilling to share my dark past with Kurt, not wanting him to think any less of me. Thankfully, Kurt moved without waiting for a response.

"And anyway, my knowledge of French will come in handy someday when I'm a famous clothing designer. Paris Fashion Week is legendary."

"That it is," I agreed. "This last spring was so amazing. McQueen's show was so powerful, and those prints were stunning."

The expression on Kurt's face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. His smile was so big it was blinding.

We chatted about fashion for awhile until Kurt finished his work on the counter and turned away to throw the contents of his chopping board into the hot frying pan.

"So," I said, trying not to sound nervous, "do you have any plans on Friday night?"

"Friday?" I watched as the back of Kurt's neck flushed pink. He kept his attention on the stove. "Um, I don't think so."

"They're showing Rent up at the Community Playhouse in Mansfield. And, um... I was wondering if you wanted to go."

He finally turned around, eyes wide. As per usual, he seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

"I thought maybe we could celebrate me passing my French test?" I said lamely.

Kurt blinked. "Blaine," he said slowly, a smile spreading on his face. "That sounds amazing. I'd love to."

I grinned. "Cool. C'est une date."

He studied me for a moment but didn't say anything. Eventually he took the frying pan off the heat and neatly tipped its contents onto two plates and one food storage container that he already had lined up neatly on the counter.

"Here," he said, handing me one of the plates and a fork before grabbing his own. "Dinner is served."

He ate leaning against the kitchen counter right across from me, close enough that I could smell his soap or shampoo or something. It was very distracting.

"How is it?" he asked after awhile.

"Fantastic," I said honestly. "You can cook for me anytime."

"Thank you." He looked pleased.

"So you said your dad's working late. Where's your mom? Are they going to be ok with me being here?"

"Yeah, Dad won't mind. He knows you're here. He trusts me. And, um... it's just Dad and I. My mom died when I was eight."

I put my fork down. "I'm sorry."

"That's ok," he said quickly. "It was a long time ago. Dad's actually been dating someone lately, and it seems to be going really well. She's the mom of one of the guys in my glee club."

"That's great," I said. "Do you like her?"

"Very much. Her name is Carole. Her husband died a long time ago, too. Her son, Finn, was just a baby."

"Oh, sure, I know Finn," I said easily.

Kurt's jaw dropped. "You do?"

"You guys weren't the first ones to think of spying, you know," I teased. "We were just better at it than you were."

Kurt feigned offense and I laughed.

"At the beginning of this school year, Wes found a blog run by some kid at McKinley who was obsessed with Rachel, who we assumed is your female lead vocalist."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "That's Ben Jacob Israel. I forgot about that. What did you guys find?"

"Not a whole lot that was of any use to us. It's mostly a lot of posts about the drama between Rachel and Finn, which is how we know who they are. There were a few videos of the glee club, but most were taken at a distance so we couldn't make out much."

"He's such a snoop," Kurt huffed. "Well, at least now I have ammo against Rachel. She's going to freak if she finds out that I've been talking about glee with you. She had kind of a bad experience with another male lead of another glee club, so you could say it's kind of a sore spot for us."

"Really? What happened? You don't have to tell me," I finished quickly. "I mean, I understand if –"

"She dated Jesse St. James from Vocal Adrenaline," Kurt cut me off, "and she ended up covered in raw eggs in the school parking lot."

"Wow."

Kurt shot me an amused look. "Exactly. So you understand my hesitation to share."

"Well," I said, "if it makes you feel better, I had to pledge my allegiance to the esteemed organization that is the Dalton Academy Warblers before Wes even let me talk to you."

Kurt laughed. "I guess we'll just have to trust the other not to tell."

"Deal." I agreed.

We looked at each other for a few moments, and then Kurt blushed and looked down. I did the same and noticed that we'd been talking over empty plates for awhile. I smiled and stood to clear the table.

"Thanks for dinner. It really was fantastic."

"Anytime. Maybe next time you can meet my dad. Speaking of, I'm going to bring some of this over to Dad real quick. And then," Kurt adopted a stern tone, "it's back to verb conjugations for you, mister!"

I playfully saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

* * *

><p>I felt the old, familiar butterflies when I pulled up to Kurt's house early Friday evening. Instantly recognizing why I was nervous, I quickly gave myself a mental pep talk.<p>

_You are not going to flirt with him tonight, Blaine. This is not a date. You are going to be a supportive friend, nothing more. He doesn't need any boys chasing after him after what Karofsky put him through._

I conjured up a mental image of how broken Kurt looked every time he talked about Karofsky.

_Just be there for him. Take his mind off all the shit he's going through._

I took a deep breath and got out of the car, nervously smoothing my outfit. It had taken me a long time to decide what to wear. I wanted to impress Kurt, and the task was daunting. Knowing that nothing in my closet was half as good as what he was going to be wearing, I finally settled on something comfortable: a pair of tight, dark wash jeans with a green sweater. In keeping with the casual theme, I decided to forgo the hair gel and leave my curls loose.

I walked up the path and rang the doorbell. I was trying to convince myself that I had no reason to worry that Kurt's dad might answer the door since Kurt and I were only friends when the door opened and Kurt was standing there. He looked fantastic, as I knew he would, wearing a fitted black button-down shirt, black skinny jeans, black knee-high boots, and a bright purple scarf.

"Hey," I said cheerfully, trying not to let my eyes linger on his outfit. "Ready to go?"

He grinned and struck a pose against the doorjamb. "Please take me out tonight!" he sang playfully, pulling the door closed behind him and dancing down the path towards my car.

I laughed, dutifully following him. "Okay, you talked me into it."

"Ooh, you're much less stubborn than Roger," he teased. "I like it."

I opened the passenger door and Kurt shot me a smile before sliding into the seat.

"So," I said after we were on the road, "there's a Greek restaurant a few blocks away from the theater. Do you want to do dinner beforehand?"

"Sure, but only if I can pay."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

"Blaine, you're driving this whole way in your car, and you paid for the tickets to the show. It's the least I can do."

"Fine, but I get to mope about it." I stuck out my lip and he laughed.

"We don't need any money," Kurt sang with a glint in his eye. "I always get in for free. You can get in, too, if you get in with me!"

"You're an awesome Mimi," I joked.

Kurt laughed breathlessly. "Thanks."

"Who would you want to be, if given the choice?" I asked after a moment. "Mark?"

"Angel."

"Really? That's a difficult range. I mean, there's that one part in 'Contact' that..." I trailed off.

Kurt knew exactly what I was referring to, however, and his cheeks flushed a bright pink. "I'm a countertenor," he said, bringing a hand up to self-consciously rub at his neck.

I raised my eyebrows and gave him as much of a look as was possible while driving. "Of course you are. And a master chef, and a French genius. Anything else? Have you been knighted, maybe?"

Kurt scoffed. "Your voice is amazing too, Blaine."

"Thank you," I said quietly, keeping my eyes fixed on the road.

After a few moments of silence, Kurt dug his iPod out of the pocket of his jeans (how did he fit _that_ in _those_ jeans?) and plugged it into my car stereo. We sang along to all the songs, sometimes singing every other verse and sometimes singing together. His voice was beautiful.

The drive to the restaurant flew by. Before I knew it, we were in Mansfield pulling up to the restaurant.

"You're going to love this place," I assured him. "It's tiny, but it has tons of character. And the gyros are to die for."

We went in, found a table and ordered our food. While we were waiting, I noticed Kurt anxiously twisting his hands in his lap.

"Something up?"

"I want to introduce you to Mercedes."

I raised my eyebrows. "Ok, sure."

The anxiety flew off his face and he beamed. "Excellent. She's been a little worked up about all the time I've been spending with you lately, and I think that once she meets you and sees for herself how awesome you are, she'll understand."

"Have we been spending too much time together?"

"No, no, absolutely not!" Kurt squeaked. It was adorable how high his voice got when he was nervous. "I love spending time with you. It's just... do you remember what I said the other day, about having a lot of time on my hands?"

I nodded.

"Well, Mercedes is kind of in the same situation. I guess you could say that she and I are kind of the old maids of the group, and we've bonded over that. She's my best friend. And it's not that she's not supportive of us or happy for me, it's just... an adjustment."

My heart skipped a beat when Kurt said "us." What did that mean? Surely just as friends?

_Of course he means as friends,_ I scolded myself. _Calm down._

"Well, I'd love to meet her."

Kurt beamed. "I'm glad. She's going to love you."

"You seemed nervous to ask me," I observed. "Why is that?"

"Oh, I dunno..." he said coyly. "I guess because her opinion means so much to me. I really want you two to get along. I mean, I know you will, I'll just feel better after you two decide you're in love with each other."

I laughed. "We'll have to get this over with, then, to ease your mind."

"Sounds good," Kurt nodded.

"So, how have things been with Karofsky?"

Kurt frowned. "The same, I guess. Locker slams, slushies, and dumpster dives. Just another day in the life of a glee club member. Nothing new to report."

It seemed twisted to be relieved that the bullying hadn't escalated past that. The forced kiss scared me, mostly because it led to thoughts of how much farther Karofsky could go than just a kiss. I worried for Kurt's safety daily.

"If there's anything you need, Kurt –"

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "You'll come charging in, horns blaring. Thanks, Blaine." He playfully rolled his eyes at me and I let out an embarrassing high-pitched giggle.

"As long as you know that."

We finished our meal quickly and walked the few blocks down the street to the theater.

"I'm so excited," Kurt gushed as we found our seats in the packed theater. "We should definitely do this more often."

"Agreed."

We waited in silence, soaking up the excitable pre-show atmosphere. I stole glances at Kurt as he went back and forth between inspecting his program and bouncing up and down in his chair like an excited child.

When the house lights finally fell, all focus was turned to the stage. The cast was good, but definitely not the best I had ever seen. I found myself sitting back in my seat so I could watch Kurt's reactions to the show without being caught. I was captivated by his tears during the reprise of "I'll Cover You."

When the show ended, we stood up and started making our way outside and back to the car. I walked slowly, not wanting the night to end, and Kurt followed suit.

We briefly debated the differences between Greg Evigan's Roger and Adam Pascal's portrayals of Roger before launching into performances of our favorite songs of the night. Kurt had instrumental versions of a lot of the songs on his iPod, and we shuffled through them on the drive home, singing obnoxiously loud and having a blast.

Before we knew it, we were pulling up to Kurt's house. I stopped myself from walking him to the door like a gentleman. _Friends don't do that, Blaine. Just say goodbye and drive home._

"Thank you for tonight." His voice floated like music through the quiet of the car.

"Thank _you _for tonight," I countered. "I had a lot of fun."

"I'll text you tomorrow."

"Sounds good. Good night, Kurt."

"Night, Blaine."

* * *

><p>The next morning I awoke to a text from Kurt.<p>

**Dinner tonight w/Mercedes?**

I almost sprained a finger in my haste to respond.

**Of course.**

**Cool. Come over around 5-ish. I have something to show you first. ;)**

I took a moment to consider the possibilities of that last statement and then cut myself off before I got carried away. I jumped out of bed and threw some clothes on. I had chores to do and a pile of homework that I had been neglecting in favor of spending time with Kurt.

The day passed quickly in my rush to get as much done as possible and I was grateful when three thirty rolled around and I could walk away from my homework. I showered quickly, threw on some clothes, and arrived in Lima with a few minutes to spare.

I rang the doorbell and took a moment to appreciate that this was the second time in two days (and the third time this week) that I found myself nervously adjusting my outfit on the Hummel doorstep.

The door opened and there stood a man I had never seen before. This had to be Kurt's dad.

"You must be Mr. Hummel?"

"Yes. You're Blaine?"

"Yes, sir. Blaine Anderson." I stuck out my hand and he shook it with a very firm grip. "It's nice to meet you, sir. Kurt speaks very highly of you."

He smiled and opened the door wider. "Come on in. Kurt's in his bedroom."

"Um..."

"It's just down those stairs there." He looked pleased that I didn't know where Kurt's bedroom was.

"Thank you, sir."

"It's Burt, kid."

"Thank you, Burt."

I ditched my shoes and jacket and went downstairs, eager to see what Kurt had to show me.

His room was definitely decent-sized, and tastefully decorated. I didn't see Kurt anywhere, but I noticed an open doorway off to one side with the light on. I wondered if that was his bathroom.

"Kurt?"

"I'll be out in a minute!" he called, undoubtedly fixing his hair. "Can you check what time we're supposed to meet 'Cedes? She texted me earlier. My phone's on the table there."

"Sure," I called back, picking up Kurt's phone and opening his messaging thread with Mercedes. I quickly scrolled through their recent messages, scanning for anything about BreadstiX, and noticed my name. Without thinking, I started reading.

**Hey, white boy! Anything happen with Blaine last night?**

**No... it's not like that between us, M. I doubt anything will ever happen.**

**I don't know, I think he likes you, boo.**

**I really don't see how that's even possible.**

I stared at the phone. So that was that. Solid proof that Kurt wasn't interested.

"I doubt anything will ever happen."

"It's not like that between us."

Not even possible?

"Did you find it?" Kurt walked out of the bathroom and startled me back to reality. I quickly closed out of the messaging screen.

"I can't figure out your phone," I lied, holding it out to him. "Can't you just get an Android phone like the rest of the world?" I teased, hoping he couldn't see right through me. I took a brief moment to appreciate his adorable short-sleeved sweater and the bright red bowtie.

Thankfully, Kurt was too busy rolling his eyes and grabbing the phone out of my hand to notice my anxiety. He quickly found what he was looking for. "Perfect, we have about ten minutes until we have to leave."

He grabbed my wrist and led me over to the bed, where we sat side-by-side. "Ok, so I need your opinion on something. Mercedes and I have had kind of a rough week and I wanted to do something special for her tonight, besides getting to meet you."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Oh, stop."

"So I got her this." He handed me a gift bag from which I pulled a large framed photo of the two of them together in matching cheerleader uniforms. I pushed aside the million inappropriate thoughts that came with seeing Kurt in a cheerleading uniform and focused on the frame instead. It was beautifully decorated with the word "Kurtcedes" in glitter on the front.

"It's our portmanteau," Kurt said shyly when I ran my fingers lightly over the letters.

"I think it's beautiful. Can I ask why you and Mercedes have had a rough week?"

"Oh, a bunch of little things, really," he sighed, taking the photo and placing it back in the bag. "It's been a long week. Do you remember me telling you that I was going to try to set her up with someone? Well, she didn't like the guy. She thought I only set them up because they were both black, which was a totally unfair accusation, but I suppose I can see where she was coming from. And then Coach, er, Principal Sylvester banned unhealthy food from the cafeteria and Mercedes has gone crazy for tater tots."

"Tater tots?"

"Yeah, apparently tots are important to her. I don't know. I just want to cheer her up, you know? I hate it when she's down like this."

I smiled. "That's really thoughtful of you, Kurt."

He blushed. "Anyway, we should get going pretty quick here. Are you ready to go?"

"Yep, all set."

We threw on our coats and shoes, bade a quick farewell to Burt, and headed out the door. Kurt had grabbed his keys and I playfully grabbed them from him and danced away.

Kurt laughed. "Fine with me. If you're driving then I get the iPod." He climbed into the passenger seat of the Escalade and I took the captain's chair with pride.

"I love this car," I said softly, rubbing the palms of my hands on the dash. Kurt rolled his eyes at me and I took the hint, throwing the SUV in gear and driving to BreadstiX without further incident.

We met Mercedes in the parking lot where Kurt gave her his gift (which she loved, of course) and we all headed inside to grab a table.

Once we were seated and had placed our orders, Mercedes turned to me.

"So, Blaine. You're in glee at your school?"

"He's the lead soloist of the Warblers," Kurt supplied helpfully. "He's fantastic."

I squirmed uncomfortably at the compliment. "It's very much so a group effort with the Warblers," I assured Mercedes. "We're mostly a cappella, so everyone is equally important to the end product."

"You're too modest," Kurt scolded me playfully. "Just say 'thank you' when I say you're amazing, Blaine."

"Thank you, Kurt," I teased.

Mercedes grinned at the two of us, which I took to be a good sign.

"We don't really talk about that kind of stuff, though, to be honest. Kurt told me what happened to you guys with Jesse St. James last year, and I don't want to invoke the wrath of either of our glee clubs."

"Rachel would destroy me," Kurt agreed. "It's not worth it."

"So what do you guys talk about?" Mercedes asked.

"Oh, everything," Kurt gushed. "We have so much in common. Blaine's into fashion and music. He's a wonderful singer, Cedes; I can't wait for you to hear him sing. Same for you, Blaine. Mercedes is going to blow your mind. She's my biggest competition in the New Directions."

Mercedes giggled and ducked her head at the compliment, which was adorable. I smiled and let Kurt continue.

"We talk about gay politics a lot, too. They're so close to repealing 'Don't ask, don't tell' right now, Cedes, it's so exciting! Imagine how many more people will be able to sign up for the armed forces once they won't have to hide their sexuality."

I nodded along with Kurt, watching Mercedes zone out of the conversation.

"And honestly," Kurt continued, "I just don't understand what people have against gay marriage. What about drunk people who get married to someone they met an hour ago by an Elvis impersonator? I mean, that's a bigger insult to marriage than two gay guys getting hitched."

"Totally. It's like, if marriage is so sacred, they should just outlaw divorce," I said.

"Right, right!" Kurt agreed.

"What do you think, Mercedes?" I asked, noticing she hadn't said anything in awhile.

"Oh, about, uh, don't ask, don't tell?"

"No, we're on prop 8 now." Kurt said helpfully.

"Totally for it."

"Against it," Kurt corrected.

"Right. I'm sorry. I kind of just blanked out." Mercedes looked stressed.

"No, don't apologize," I said quickly. "We should talk about stuff that you're interested in, too."

"I know, let's play a game," Kurt suggested. "Ok. On the count of three, name your favorite 2010 Vogue cover."

Ooh! I love this game!

"Ready?" Kurt asked. "One, two, three."

"Marion Cotillard!" Kurt and I both said in unison.

Kurt and I fanboyed over Marion Cotillard for awhile before I decided maybe Mercedes would appreciate a subject change.

"Are you a Buckeyes fan, Mercedes?"

She didn't respond. It looked like she had kind of zoned out again.

"Mercedes?" I asked. She blinked, which I figured meant she was listening, so I continued. "I was just talking about the Buckeyes. I'm a college football fan. I like sports too, you know."

"Oh, way to break the stereotype!" Kurt cheesily high-fived me and I couldn't help but to smile.

"Excuse me?" Mercedes stopped a server that was walking by. "I know it's not on your menu, but I was wondering if you guys have –"

"You want some tots," the server finished for her. "You kids must go to McKinley." She shot us all a knowing look and left to put the order in.

_Huh. Kurt wasn't kidding about the tots._

Mercedes smiled as if pacified and then turned her attention back to us. "So, what are we talking about?"

"Has anyone read Patti LuPone's new book?" Kurt asked.

I paused for a moment, teasing Kurt for a reaction. When he looked thoroughly scandalized, I caved. "I'm kidding! Of course I have."

"You scared me so much there!" Kurt exclaimed, and then launched into an exhaustive review of the book and of Patti's career in general, which led to current Broadway shows and eventually to costume design, which naturally led to fashion, which I knew from experience that Kurt could discuss at length for hours with almost no encouragement.

I happily kept up my side of the conversation with Kurt, but I couldn't help but notice Mercedes' melancholy mood. She cheered up for a minute after the server brought our food and her tots, but she didn't voluntarily participate in any conversation without a prompt from Kurt or me.

When we were finished, Mercedes sighed. "I should get going. Early service tomorrow."

We paid for our food, said our goodbyes to Mercedes in the parking lot and climbed back in the SUV.

"I see what you mean about wanting to cheer Mercedes up," I said. "I felt terrible for her."

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

Suddenly, I thought of something. "Where's the nearest grocery store?"

Kurt shot me a quizzical look but directed me to the nearest grocery store. I drug Kurt in with me and led him to the frozen food section.

"Excellent!" I exclaimed. "They're on sale. Here, help me with these."

Kurt laughed and shook his head as I started loading him up with bags of frozen tater tots. "Blaine, I'm not sure this is the right message to be sending to her. 'Here, have a few bags full of preservatives?'"

"Kurt, it's the gesture that counts. And this will make her feel better. Come on." Our arms full of tots, we walked to the front of the store and dumped the tots on the belt at the checkout. The cashier eyed us but didn't say anything.

I paid for the tots and loaded them into the back of the Escalade. "I'll drive us back to your place, and then I'm going to head back to Dalton," I said.

"You don't want to come over to Mercedes' with me?"

I chose my words carefully. "I think this will be a more powerful gesture if you go alone. Besides, I have a pretty good sized stack of homework waiting for me back at Dalton, and I haven't hung out with any of the guys in awhile."

"Ok," Kurt said. "Well, thanks for everything, Blaine. As always."

"Don't mention it. I'll text you."

"Sounds good. See ya."

"Bye, Kurt."

We stood awkwardly in the driveway for a brief moment before climbing in our respective vehicles. Kurt pulled out of the driveway first, and I watched until he drove out of sight before starting my own engine and driving off.

I didn't see Burt watching us from the living room window.


End file.
